


I Took The Prize Last Night For Complicated Mess

by lisachan



Series: Chronicles of the Academy [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Lemon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Langley and Shannen are students at Titania's Magical Academy, the only school in the whole Land where the mortality rates are higher than the juvenile criminality ones. Langley's problem, though, isn't fear of dying, or becoming a juvenile criminal, for that matter. Nope. All that Langley really wants is to get in touch with Shannen. And he manages. It's a shame what had the potential for a very rewarding and pleasant moment quickly turns into disaster the moment Langley loses control of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Took The Prize Last Night For Complicated Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Langley and Shannen are original characters I created for this year's Clash of the Writing Titans, a writing challenge we hold at [maridichallenge @ lj](http://maridichallenge.livejournal.com/) yearly, that changes setting and main characters with each edition. This edition was thought to be a tribute to Harry Potter -- this is the reason behind the similarities in setting.  
> This put aside, I love Langley and Shannen and their complicated relationship with all my heart, and I hope you enjoy the story ♥

_I felt slightly connected to him_  
_And said now boy, now you own me_

It’s raining outside, but underneath the ringing, vibrant sound of Shannen’s laughter Langley can barely hear it. The drops are big and heavy, falling smoothly on the grass covering the green land around the Academy, or hitting hard against the windows, making the glasses vibrate as if someone was throwing rocks at them to catch their attention, but they’re irrelevant, and Langley’s got no willpower to waste to focus on anything that isn’t Shannen’s laughter, the most beautiful sound ever produced by living creature.

It’s as simple as that, and maybe it’s the alcohol speaking, but after all he doesn’t resent alcohol in the least for being part of the equation that brought them together tonight. Shannen was already half drunk when he asked Langley to help him out carving a caricature of Miss Flowerbloom on the door of her office, and Langley must’ve been drunk too to accept, though elated as he was that Shannen had chosen him, _him_ , to ask for help on the matter.

Alcohol makes Shannen mellow, it makes his laughter easier to come, melts his icy, icy eyes to a warmer shade of light blue and shatters the air of stubborn, aggressive indifference with which he generally approaches everything coming his way. Alcohol makes him easier to handle, closer to touch, in a way. That’s the only reason why Langley’s so close to him, now. Thank all the Gods for alcohol, really.

"I didn't think you'd pull it off," Shannen says, curling up on one of the windowsills, one of his knees brought up almost to his chest and the other leg stretched, pointing on the floor. He looks at Langley, his lips curled in an amused grin, those dark messed up hair of his falling freely down his cheeks, framing his face, "I was sure you'd have pulled back before things got serious."

"It's clear you don't know me well enough," Langley answers, his grin matching Shannen’s, as he leans against the wall as close to him as possible. “I can be a prankster.”

“You can be a what?” Langley laughs out loud, “Dude, not even my grandparents ever used that word. And you don’t care about pranks, you don’t even like them.”

“That’s true,” Langley chuckles, “I’m too lazy for them. I’ll admit. I like different kind of games.”

Shannen’s grin widens up, his eyes shimmering in the dim milky light coming through the window. “I know the kind of games you like to play,” he says.

Langley’s heart skips a bit, and then starts thumping in his chest so hard Langley’s ears start ringing.

Is he flirting or something?

“You do?” he asks rhetorically, trying not to show how this all makes him feel.

Shannen obviously gets it. Of course he does. When he met him for the first time – it was three years ago, and Shennen was much, much shorter than he is now, as his features were much, much rounder – he somehow got the wrong impression about him, he thought that, since he was silent so often, and he didn’t seem to care about anything, and all he seemed to do was go through the motion and sometimes wreck some shit just for the sake of it, he thought he was stupid, that there was something disconnected in his brain, that he just was not like all the other kids. Well, on latter, at least, he was right, but he had gotten all the rest wrong.

Shannen’s never been stupid. His mind is just used to simplify things, to crack them down to find the true core of them. He’s a good observer, he knows where to look for when he looks at someone and wants to get to the heart of a person’s heart, to see what that person really is about. 

He had known him less than two months the first time he had bounced Langley, but he had managed to get to the core of him already anyway, and in such a little time. Langley didn’t like him that much back then – sure, he was stunning, and he had the air of a young one, at times, which added spice to the whole picture, but he wasn’t that taken with him yet. He was just a name linked to a pretty face, an item to cross off the list of the Academy students, something Langley wanted just because he could get it. He had hit on him carelessly, presumptuously, trusting his good looks and natural charm would’ve been enough as they always had been before, taking the outcome for granted during a party that meant nothing and would never mean a thing, and while sitting on a windowsill very similar to the one he’s sitting on right now Shannen had looked at him in the eyes and had told him: “You don’t even like me. And, frankly, I don’t know a thing about you. Why would I ever want to fuck you?”

“What does that even mean?” Langley had answered in an amused laughter, leaning closer to him, “Sex is pleasant, that’s why you wanna have it. You don’t need any other reason for it.”

Shannen had kept looking at him, those cold, piercing eyes staring shamelessly, seemingly so unimpressed with him they could’ve forgotten all about him by just moving an inch to the side. “I disagree,” he had said.

“What?” Langley had frowned, bothered by his – he believed – futile resistance, that did nothing to keep the game entertaining, “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun, I promise. Come with me.”

Shannen hadn’t moved an inch. “Tell me the name of the last person you’ve had sex with.”

Langley had opened his mouth, believing he had the answer to that question. He didn’t.

“I…”

“What about the one before them?”

This time, Langley hadn’t even tried.

Shannen had nodded slowly, taking in the answer as if he had known it all along. “I’m not interested in becoming yet another name you can’t remember,” he said then, “You don’t seem worth the trouble, and I certainly matter much, much more.”

They’ve walked quite a long way since then, Shannen and him, but that was the beginning of everything. It was the first time Langley was able to see Shannen for who he really was, the beginning of Langley’s quest to make Shannen a name he wouldn’t forget after he was done with him. He wishes he could tell him, now. That he could tell him “I know the road we walked, I know what changed, and I understand it. Can the lesson be over, now? I swear I got it.” But for some reason he can’t make the words out, he can’t push them past his lips. He blames the alcohol for it – alcohol’s an affectionate friend like that, it lets you praise its name when things are smooth and it lets you shame it when they’re not.

“How’s your girlfriend?” Shannen asks, barely tilting his head to the side. His amused, cocky smile is at the same time so unbearable and so irresistible Langley doesn’t even know if he wants to kiss it or punch it off his face. Probably kiss it, though. Punching Shannen isn’t an option in the realm of possibilities any more than it’d be to pierce a hole in a piece of art. 

“My girlfriend?” Langley asks back, arching an eyebrow.

Shannen smiles more widely, definitely enjoying the questioning. “Yava,” he says.

“Who?” Langley blinks. For a few moments, he honestly hasn’t the faintest idea who Shannen might be talking about.

“Yava,” Shannen laughs, “Wasn’t it her name? The nurse. You seemed to like her.”

“Ah…” Langley nods vaguely, some faint recollection of a beautiful smile and charming golden eyes swimming in his memory, “Yes. Right. Well, I did. She was very good looking. Well, is. I guess. With the mortality rate in this school you never really know.”

“Cold,” Shannen laughs again.

“As if you cared onea bit about Yava?” Langley insists, pouting lightly, “Or any other of my boyfriends and girlfriends, actually.”

“I don’t, you’re right,” Shannen straightens his bent leg, stretching it a little, “You’re kind of supposed to, though, aren’t you? Or are you still the boy forgetting names right after you fuck someone?”

 _Never yours_ , he would like to say, he _should_ say, _never yours_.

“Listen,” he says nervously, “She was just— I mean, I liked her, of course, but—“

“And then there’s the kid,” Shannen laughs again, standing up.

“—The kid?” Langley asks, puzzled, “Who—“

“The girl.”

“The girl?” Langley frowns, lost for a moment until he realizes, “The _boy_ , Shannen, Celes is a boy, and I like him very much, but—“

“Aren’t your hands,” Shannen leans in and presses his lips against Langley’s in the faintest, shortest, driest kiss ever, “full enough for you to be chasing after me too?”

He needs more than a few seconds to fully comprehend what just happened. That Shannen could ever end up kissing him, even so briefly, was such an unexpected event he wasn’t even considering it as a remote possibility. The taste of his lips is still lingering on his own – somewhat salty, somewhat bitter – and Langley licks it away to make sure it’s really there, that he isn’t dreaming it, while staring at him so helplessly for a moment he doesn’t even feel like himself. He’s not one of those guys, he doesn’t fall silent, he doesn’t get embarrassed, he’s never at a loss in front of people, not even in front of Shannen, or at least it had never happened up until now, and the thought makes him, in anything, slightly uncomfortable.

But then he realizes. Shannen just kissed him. He just _kissed him_. That’s not something he can afford to react to by just standing there like an idiot and doing nothing except staring at him like he didn’t even know what to do.

He knows exactly what to do.

He holds Shannen’s face in his hands as he moves forward, covering the distance between them in an instant. He kisses him hungrily right from the start, his lips parted, his tongue prying Shannen’s lips open, exploring the hot wetness of his mouth as he hears his body slam against the window in a frightfully shaky thud. The hallway falls silent, their sealed lips don’t let a single noise out, and the sound of the rain is everything, now, everything that isn’t Shannen’s warmth, of course, his taste on Langley’s tongue, the firm resistance of his only seemingly fragile body against his own. 

Langley only breaks the kiss to kiss him down his neck. He wants to taste more of him, he wants to overwhelm him, do to him all the things he’s dreamed about for the last three years. This might be his only chance and he doesn’t wanna waste it. 

Shannen’s breath is low and deep, controlled, relaxed. Langley feels his chest slowly move up and down against his own, moving way faster, and since that’s unnerving he bites him, his pointy teeth, the ones he usually tries and keep concealed, piercing through his skin, drawing blood.

Shannen hisses, and then laughs. “Vampire,” he says matter-of-factly.

Langley licks the blood off his skin, and then the little wounds too, to help them close. “Only partly,” he says against Shannen’s skin, “Don’t know how big a part.”

“Enough to have fangs.”

“And to want to drink the Little Drink,” he says, “Once in a while. But not enough to need it.” He looks up, speaking half an inch away from Shannen’s face, his tongue teasing his lips at the end of the sentence. “That a problem?”

Shannen looks back at him, and then kisses him again. This time it isn’t dry, it isn’t short, it isn’t faint. It isn’t brief at all. “Do you see me running?” he asks afterwards. That’s more than enough of an answer, for Langley, and he doesn’t waste any more time questioning the matter.

The way to Ombrarossa’s dorm is long and the one that, from the Common Room, leads to his bedroom is even longer, and Langley was expecting them to stop kissing, at some point, to take the first few steps unable to unglue themselves from each other but then relaxing, letting go of some of that tension, walk the rest of the way, run the last part, like it usually happens with anybody else, but not this time, not with him. Langley doesn’t seem to be able to tear himself off Shannen’s lips, he just keeps kissing him, and the tension doesn’t fade out, it keeps mounting, it just swells and swells, threatening to make him burst. He keeps stopping their march towards the bedroom, driven by the imperative urge to smack Shannen against the wall, kiss him furiously, stick his hands underneath his messed up, untidy uniform. 

Shannen chuckles every step of the way. He’s got the upper hand, that much becomes pretty clear right away, and frankly Langley’s way too taken, way too excited to put even the slightest effort in trying to make him believe otherwise. He can mock him, he can laugh of his urgency, he can cast him those superior glances sometime Langley intercepts when they pass in front of a window and there’s light enough to see his eyes, Langley doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter, ‘cause every time he kisses him Shannen whimpers, and every time he touches him he moans, and his body moves towards Langley’s, searching for contact, for friction, for some sort of temporary release.

When they finally get to the room, Langley realizes he’s never been happier to see his own bed – and he’s been happy to see his own bed a lot, especially over the course of the last four years. He kicks the door closed and pulls Shannen up from the floor. He’s light as a feather, but the strength of the grip of his arms around Langley’s neck, and of his thighs around his hips, makes quite clear that he isn’t weak, and that he isn’t suffering any of this. 

Langley keeps kissing him all the way to the bed, but when he puts him down and tries to climb on top of him Shannen overturns their positions, pushes him with his back down against the mattress and sits on his lap. He raises an arm, pushing his hair back with one hand. For a moment Langley can only seem to be able to focus on just that one thing – his fingers hooked around those dark messy locks, the little eon the back of his hand, his white knuckles in the blue light of the night, his newly uncovered forehead, the tension in his wrist, in his arm, in the curve of his shoulder – and suddenly he feels a distant sting of pain in his lower abdomen and he realizes he’s hard, and he’s probably never been harder. He’s never been hard to the point of feeling any pain about it, but the feeling of pain seems to be eternally linked with Shannen, at this point. The pain of longing, of wanting him and not having him, of frustration mounting inside him, making him mad with desire, almost angry at himself for letting Shannen make such a mess of him. And now the pain of wanting him and being about to have him, but at the same time feeling completely helpless underneath him. Shannen looks down at him and his eyes are so clear and shiny they seem unreal. His lips, red and swollen after all the kissing, curl into a wicked smile as he leans in and kisses Langley again.

He kisses like he does everything else in his life, he’s rough and careless, almost brutal. He lets go of his own hair to lose his hands among Langley’s curls, and when his fingers get tangled up in them he tugs at them, he pulls him in every direction, and Langley can’t do anything more than raising his own arms and putting them on his hips, making him move, guiding at least that.

Shannen breaks the kiss to moan against Langley’s lips – the sound is liquid, intense, it drips straight down Langley’s body and melts on his cock, making him even harder than before. He lets go a whining born out of pure, undiluted pain. He needs to fuck him now, or he’s just simply going to have a mental and physical breakdown. This isn’t an amount of tension he can withstand. He needs release.

“You’re a good kisser,” Shannen says, speaking on his lips.

“I’m an even better lover,” he says. The sentence’s cheesy and lame, but he doesn’t say it, he growls it, and Shannen seems pleased with it – or, at least, he doesn’t put up any kind of resistance when Langley grabs him by his waist and overturns their positions again, finally climbing on top of him. He parts his legs, instead, making room for him. Langley’s so close, so close to what he wants. And Shannen wants it, he can feel it in the hardness constricted inside his pants. He wants this, maybe not as much as Langley does, but that’ll be enough.

Langley unbuttons his pants, pulls them down his thighs. They’re white and firm, and Langley wants to lick and bite every single inch of his skin, but he’s got a different kind of urgency, now, he needs to be inside him, he needs it to the point of believing there’s nothing else in the world he could ever need the same way.

And so he pulls his own pants down, and bares himself.

And he presses his crotch against Shannen’s, feeling their erections collide, feeling them press against one another.

And then he comes.

And for the first time in his life, he feels dreadful about it.

Shannen looks down at the thin, translucent layer of come glazing his stomach in swirls, pooling in his navel, dripping down towards his crotch. He stares at it as if he couldn’t even believe it. Langley’s heart sinks down to his stomach, and for a moment he feels the temperature of his own body plummet down to frightfully freezing levels, and then soar again, just as quickly and suddenly as it had dropped, coloring his cheeks and making his eyes unfocused as he tries to focus on anything that isn’t the thundering roar of his blood in his own ears.

Quite predictably, Shannen soon starts laughing, and just like that Langley only wants to die.

“Oh God…” he whimpers, trying to speak over the piercing sound of Shannen’s laughter, “It had never… never happened to me before.”

“I’m sure,” Shannen’s laughing so hard he’s crying a little, which would be a wondrous sight if Langley wasn’t thinking about climbing to the highest tower of the Academy to throw himself into the void. “No, really, I believe you. You wouldn’t have the reputation you have if this had already happened before. Still. It’s hilarious.”

“I can’t believe it…” Langley says in a desperate sigh as he moves away from Shannen and sits next to him on the bed, his head between his hands, “I can’t believe it… not with you.”

“Yeah, I know, right?” Shannen chuckles, grabbing a corner of the blanket to clean himself. He doesn’t even seem bothered by not having come himself, he’s just so freaking amused. This is such a catastrophe. Langley’s never gonna be able to take a step out of this room ever again. “I mean, how many years have you been waiting for this, two?”

“Three,” Langley whines, “I could tell you the number of months and days too, perhaps even the hours if I really focused on it, but I won’t.”

“Wow,” Shannen laughs, pulling up his pants and climbing off the bed, “You’re really keen on digging this hole as deep as you possibly can. Amazing. Well, okay, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“What?” Langley looks up and reaches out for him, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “Wait, no. Don’t go yet. Let me at least— I mean, let me take care of you.”

Shannen casts him a confused glance, blinking a couple of times. Then he starts laughing again, and Langley distinctly thinks that if he hears this laughter once again tonight he’s certainly going to commit suicide. “Doesn’t matter,” Shannen says lightheartedly, shrugging his hand off, “It wasn’t important.”

“It wasn’t important?” Langley looks up, his voice desperate, almost strangled, “It wasn’t important?! It _was_! It was the most important thing ever!”

“No, not really,” Shannen chuckles.

Langley covers his face with both his hands. He’s exhausted and heartbroken. This is awful. He’s never felt like this in his entire life. “Please leave,” he says, trying not to burst into crying while he still hasn’t left.

Shannen scoffs a little laughter, and holds both of Langley’s hands in his own. He pulls them away, baring his face, and then leans in, kissing him on his lips. “Tonight I liked more things than I didn’t like,” he says, looking at him, “You’re gonna have another chance, so don’t sweat it.” Then he lets his hands go, and turns around, walking towards the door. “Don’t overthink it,” he says as he leaves, “Or it’s gonna happen again.”

The mere thought is so horrifying that Langley doesn’t even manage to fully realize the fact that Shannen basically just told him they’re sort of dating.

*

It happens again, and sooner than Langley could’ve ever thought. For a few days Shannen plays his usual part, steers clear of him, probably thinking it best to let him cool down – and he’s undoubtedly right about it.

Except there’s no amount of time in the whole Land that would suffice to make him cool down about what happened between them.

He’s still pretty confused about it when Shannen approaches him again. Lady Violet’s lecturing him about punctuality, as it usually happens when Langley’s late to classes, which turns out to be way more often than he should – especially considering in Lady V’s opinion he _never_ should – when he sees Shannen lying against a wall in the hallway, too close to a corner turning into a completely empty hall to be casual. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and when their eyes meet Langley instinctively knows Shannen was waiting for him, and his heart starts beating faster.

It’s too soon, he thinks, but he needs to go to him. 

“So, Langley, if you could just—“

“Can I be excused?” he instantly asks, turning towards Lady Violet.

She frowns, disappointed in him. “Who have you seen?”

“No one.”

“Who are you about to run after the very moment I excuse you, Langley?”

“No one, Miss, I swear,” he groans. He turns to look at Shannen to make sure he’s still there, and he is. He grins, and then turns around, disappearing behind the corner. Langley needs to follow him. “Miss, I got it, I swear. I won’t be late for classes again. Can I go?”

“Your Deflecting Spells class is in less than half an hour, Langley,” she says, “And you better not miss the beginning.”

He nods quickly, and runs in the direction Shannen just disappeared to. To be quite honest, all he really wants for now is a reason to be late to Deflecting Spells. Being late to Deflecting Spells would mean what’s about to happen will have an happy ending, and he’s aching for an happy ending when Shannen’s concerned – as a matter of fact, he’s pretty sure another bad ending would be fatal for him. He can’t afford it.

As he had hoped, Shannen’s waiting for him at the back of the hall, in a private and quite shadowy corner that makes for an intimate meeting spot. He’s still smiling, and he’s still leaning against the wall. He’s also still got his arms crossed over his chest, and a foot pressed against the wall, which is quite a bully pose, but he looks sexy while holding it, so Langley doesn’t really care for it. 

“Were you waiting for me?” he asks, moving closer.

“Yep,” Shannen answers, “That so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know what’s hard or easy to believe anymore,” Langley sighs, leaning against the wall next to him, “Last night shattered my beliefs and left me an empty, lost soul in a cruel, treacherous world.”

Shannen starts laughing out loud, and that, Langley has to admit, is way more rewarding than making him laugh by being an incompetent fool in bed. 

The sound manages to make him relax again, something he hasn’t been able to do since the whole bedroom debacle took place. It brings him back to that very same night before the disaster, when everything seemed easy and pleasant, and Shannen, half drunk and in a good mood, kept laughing and joking and flirting, and the night seemed full of awesome promises and possibilities.

“So…” Langley starts, swallowing, “It’s been…”

“Please, don’t,” Shannen chuckles, shaking his head and reaching out with his hand for Langley’s mouth, which he covers right away, “There’s no need to. Seriously. I thought you were cool, Langley. Turns out you’re a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd,” Langley mutters, moving away from his hand.

“It wasn’t an insult,” Shannen smiles, “I didn’t say I dislike it.”

“Well, on this particular matter, sweets, I don’t give a flying fuck about what you like and what you don’t,” he insists, frowning, “It’s me you’re talking about. And I’ll admit you confuse me, and you really push me into behaving like an idiot for reasons that elude me entirely besides the fact that you look outrageously good, but I’m _not_ an idiot, so don’t treat me like one.”

Shannen doesn’t seem surprised by his outburst, but he seems silenced, at least for a moment. He looks at Langley, his smile fading away, leaving place to a more serious, focused expression. He keeps quiet for a few moments, and then he says “Kiss me.”

The words ring in Langley’s ears, and for a moment he feels deaf and numb. “Did I say something…?”

“Shut up,” Shannen says, moving closer, “And kiss me.” Then his expression softens up – just slightly, but it does. “Don’t ruin it by being a dork.”

Langley could protest, but what would be the point in that? It seems much more productive to lean in and comply. 

Shannen raises his arms and crosses them behind Langley’s nape, pulling him closer as they kiss. It feels different than last night – less frantic, for sure, a bit more relaxed. Maybe, Langley thinks, maybe that’s just what he needed, not to be so tense. Last night he had been so pumped up, so on edge, after waiting for so long and getting what he wanted so unexpectedly, it was only obvious he’d have ended up making a mess out of everything. This time, for sure, it’ll be different. This time, for sure, he’ll score.

He presses Shannen up against the wall, and he instantly parts his legs, holding onto him not to slide down to the floor. He rocks his hips just lightly, inviting Langley to rub back, which is way more than Langley was expecting to get today, but seems like such a sweet path to take he can’t really help responding to it. His lips part from Shannen to wander down his neck and he takes his time to enjoy his taste, really let it sink down his sensory memory. He wants to hold onto it, this time. He wants this to go well, so it can become a good moment to think about in the future.

Shannen’s fingers dive into his shoulders and he lets out some sort of vague, muffled half-whining right against Langley’s ear. “I’m horny,” he says. He doesn’t ask to be fucked, or jerked off, or anything else, it’s almost as if he thought requesting something was a way too selfish approach to sex. He’s a practical boy, that much is clear, now. He works on needs. He doesn’t ask to be granted something – he doesn’t want a present, he doesn’t want Langley to humor him, or to fulfill his desires. He expresses a need – I’m horny. That’s probably the whole point of this – the reason why he didn’t get angry when Langley came too soon. He’s all about sharing needs, not necessarily about quenching a thirst.

Which, for Langley, is quite a complex concept to assimilate – what with being part vampire and everything. Quenching a thirst is sometimes all he can ever think of. And it’s been like this with Shannen too, right from the start, just as it’s been for any other boy or girl. They were all glasses of water Langley needed to swallow down to quench his thirst. 

But Shannen isn’t a glass of water, if anything he’s the salt that will fuel his thirst. And Langley needs to keep that in mind, if he doesn’t wanna dehydrate.

He pulls him down onto himself, rubbing against him. He needs to take control of this. He can’t be too lost, can’t put himself too much at his mercy. That doesn’t work, he ends up giving in, charging it too much, and then he explodes too soon. He needs to calm down. He needs to focus. He needs to push pleasure back and concentrate on holding back – but it’s _impossible_ when Shannen’s moving against him like this, it’s impossible when he feels him hard against himself, and it’s impossible if he keeps whispering and gasping and moaning “can you feel me?”, when all Langley really wants is to feel him _more_ , to feel him _inside_ , and just the thought of it pushes him over the edge, and— just the thought of it is apparently able to make him come – too soon – again – inside his pants.

For a moment, everything freezes. Shannen stops moving, and they both hold their breaths. Langley’s afraid to look up while reality slowly seeps through the veil of complete abandonment shrouding him, protecting him from the blow of shame that’s sure to follow any moment now.

He can feel the warmth, and the wetness. He can feel them quickly turn to uncomfortable stickiness. And he cannot move.

“Are you even serious?”

This must be a nightmare.

“…Shannen—“

“No.” He climbs off him. He doesn’t seem properly angry – he’s nervous, though, and pretty much speechless. He’s not alone in that.

“I don’t know what to say,” Langley whines, looking down. He can’t even think properly. He feels so disgusted with himself. Not just once, but twice in a row. This is the end – it’s over, it’s done. 

“Is it me?” Shannen asks. The way he says it – it’s not like he believed it was his own fault for being too handsome, or too desirable, or whatever. It’s like he was saying is it you, really, for not being able to handle me?

“Shannen, I— You have to understand.”

“I really don’t _have_ to,” he says, shaking his head. He tidies up his uniform, and pushes his hair out of his face, “Listen,” he says, “Whatever. This clearly was not—“

“Oh God, _please_ , don’t say it,” Langley stops him, a note of pure desperation cracking his voice, “Just don’t.”

Shannen looks at him, completely stunned. He seems torn between the urge to smack his fist into Langley’s face and run away, or simply move out of his view and disappear to him forever, without even granting him the privilege of having beaten him up before. It’s the worst Langley could ever think of. To be left by someone knowing perfectly well of having mattered nothing, not even enough to deserve their anger.

“Let’s take a break,” Shannen says. His voice is hard, but controlled. Strangely serene, almost creepily so. Langley doesn’t watch him walk away, he only hears the muffled sound of his footsteps down the hallway, growing fainter and fainter by the second as he walks away.

He checks the watch on his wrist. Still ten minutes before Deflecting Spells kicks off. Seems he won’t be coming in late, after all.

*

Shannen starts avoiding him, and Langley’s not sure if he’s alright with it or not. Sure, not seeing him anymore makes it easier to stop thinking about what a failure he was with him, which certainly helps him being a functional person by keeping the dreadful feeling of shame far from him enough that he can show up at classes without wanting to put a paper bag over his head, for example. On the other hand, though, not seeing him has the pretty evident downside that he isn’t, well, seeing him, and he misses him. Not only the little bit he could taste of him while they were intimate – his hungry kisses, that dangerous glint in his eyes when he was on edge, his feline movements like those of a wildlife creature – but the ones he used to know before too, his dry sense of humor, those condescending looks he often cast him, how he smiled smugly, mocking him, whenever Langley did something he thought stupid or ridiculous. He even misses the deforming curses Shannen used to cast him when he got angry at him, when he refused to let him go even when he demanded to be left alone, the screaming, the fighting, the swearing he’d never manage to get his hands on him.

He misses everything and it’s way worse than before. At least, before he didn’t know what he was missing on.

He has sex with a few people, during these day. Reconnects with Yava, manages to corner Helena and pass a beating by kissing her half-stupid, he even spends some time with Celes, but the boy’s locked down like the gates of heaven, understandably enough, and though Langley really likes him, though he feels drawn towards him, fascinated by his mixed nature, by his delicate features and compressed chest, by the way he swims in his baggy male uniform and by the way his red striped hair fall down his face, framing it, he honestly can’t possibly entertain the idea of jumping into yet another impossible quest to gain the favors of yet another impossible boy who can’t or won’t make it easy for him.

He doesn’t like difficult things, he likes to have it easy. Does this make him a spoiled brat? He doesn’t even care. Whatever. He’s not supposed to be fighting for this too, considering he’ll be lucky to come out the Academy alive at all. He wants to enjoy what’s left of this year and the next. Not to suffer through it.

He’s thinking about this as he walks back into his bedroom that night, and he’s quite focused on the thought, he feels it’s got life-changing potential, this moment he’s going through. Enough with whimsical, too-hard-to-get kids pushing him past the very edge of sanity. Enough with impossible situations, with chasing after people who think they’re too precious to shag like normal folks. From now on it’s easy fucks alone. Maybe he’s even going to find himself a boyfriend or a girlfriend, someone simple, someone who doesn’t cause trouble, someone he can handle without putting too much effort into it, and he’ll sail the rest of this year and the next instead of swimming upstream through it.

And then, of course, he closes the door, looks up to the bed and sees Shannen sitting on the edge of it, and all of his good intentions crumble to dust and fade in the wind as the only thing he can think of is that he’s too beautiful to be true, and he wants him so much he feels like crying every time he thinks about it.

“What are you doing here?”

Shannen looks exactly as he’d look if Langley had met him by chance down some hallway at the Academy during classes. His eyes are impenetrable and his expression is eerily still. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t seem angry nor annoyed either. He’s just there. Waiting. He doesn’t even move.

“You’re late,” he says, crossing his legs, “Were you with someone?”

“I wasn’t,” Langley frowns, annoyed, “And it’s none of your damn business anyway. You said you wanted a break and I just decided I’m done with you and with all those like you anyway, so what are you doing here?”

Shannen arches an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth imperceptibly curling downwards. “Why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry.”

“Right,” this time, Shannen openly frowns, showing his irritation quite clearly, “You’re not angry. This is just the usual way you talk to me. Besides, what does it even mean that you’re done with me and those like me?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Langley walks into the room, taking off his sweater and starting to undo his tie, “Because you know what kind of person you are. You’re— You know what, when you asked me if it was you causing my _problem_ , I should’ve said yes. Yes, it was you.”

“Wow,” Shannen stands up, clutching his fists down his sides, “Really? Me?”

“Yes, my dear, you.” Langley takes off his tie and throws it carelessly on the bed. “It’s your fault I can’t perform. Three years you’ve kept me on the line. Three years.”

“Strange concept of keeping someone on the line you’ve got,” Shannen protests, “When all that’s happened is that you kept insisting and insisting despite my repeated refusals. That’s not me keeping you on the line, that’s you being a friggin’ stalker and not knowing how to take no for an answer.”

“But you never really pushed me away, did you, though?” Langley insists, unbuttoning his shirt. He doesn’t even care that Shannen’s watching, or that he’s right, for that matter. He wants him gone. He’s done with this. He just wants him to leave. “You liked having me around, I was your puppet. You knew I would’ve given you anything!”

“Yeah, sure!” Shannen raises his voice, “I knew it so well that I never exploited it!”

“That’s irrelevant! It was the thought you enjoyed, the idea of it, because you’re a fucked up twat.”

“You’re _delusional_!”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that!” Langley takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground in an angry movement, “Whatever you want, Shannen! Keep telling yourself we weren’t playing a game and you weren’t enjoying it, keep telling yourself you’re an innocent bystander in this, that it wasn’t you pushing me to a point in which it’s simply _not possible_ for me to deal with you as if you were just another fuck, go on, believe what you want, I’m _done_!” But he wonders if Shannen heard a word of it when he feels his hands grab his own head with furious momentum, and his lips pressed against his own, famished, voracious, incandescent. 

For a moment, it feels heavenly, and Langley forgets all that he’s said, all that he’s thought. He puts his hands around Shannen’s waist, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, and then something awakens inside him, like a cog finally falling into place, letting the machine work properly again.

He realizes what the problem is, what it’s always been. It was true, he was Shannen’s puppet, he went soft on him, he forgot how to behave like his own person around him. It wasn’t necessarily Shannen’s fault, though. It was him, he made it happen.

And so there’s nothing Shannen can do to shake him out of this. He can only try and push him, and Langley’s glad he decided to do it. But now it’s on him. He needs to step up, and take the reins. 

His hands travel to Shannen’s shoulders, and he pushes him back, breaking the kiss. “We’re doing it my way, this time,” he says roughly.

Shannen looks up at him and frowns, clearly disappointed. “You can’t de—“

“Oh, my sweet, I can and I will,” he doesn’t even let him finish. He kisses him again, hungrily, thrusting his tongue in his mouth to shut him up and steal his breath. He pushes him back towards the bed again, and this time he doesn’t let him change position, he doesn’t let him move on top. There will be time, he thinks as he nails him on the mattress, his hands scurrying underneath Shannen’s shirt, feeling his hot skin under his fingertips, if this works, there will be time to let him sit on top of him, to let him ride him, to let him do whatever the hell he wants with his body, and Langley will be fine with it, and he’ll be compliant, but not this time, not this first time. This, he clearly needs to do his own way.

He moves away from him, and Shannen props himself up on his elbows to try and follow his lips as they withdraw from the kiss, but Langley doesn’t let him get him. “Not now,” he smirks, and Shannen’s disappointed expression, the annoyed pout pursing his lips, it all fuels him like never before. He grabs him by his hips and makes him turn around, forcing him face down into the mattress.

“What—“ Shannen gasps, clearly taken by surprise. Langley laughs, and he laughs even harder when he hears him growl.

“Trust me,” he says, “You’re gonna like it.”

“I haven’t trusted you one day since we met, and I’m certainly not going to start now,” Shannen answers. Langley decides to ignore him, and he smirks as he strips him naked from his shirt, and starts kissing him down his spine.

Shannen’s thin, and the curve of his back is lean and dry. Langley’s lips follow the little bumps of his vertebrae, one kiss after the other. When Shannen shivers, Langley flicks his tongue out and licks his skin. Shannen moans, and Langley smirks again. Yes, that’s it. That’s right. This, he can work with.

He reaches out for his tie, a thin line of red fabric tangled up above the blanket. He keeps Shannen’s body pressed against the mattress as he straightens his back and turns the fabric around his fist twice, tugging at it to test its strength. It’s gonna hold.

“Be a good boy,” he whispers, leaning in on Shannen’s ear, “And don’t flail. You could hurt yourself.”

Shannen doesn’t seem worried, but he’s careful. He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to wiggle out of Langley’s hold. Even when he feels the cool fabric of the tie being wrapped and then tied up around his wrists, he doesn’t do anything rash. He remains still, only turning his head a little to the side to try and look at Langley. “I knew you were a perv,” he says, his lips curling into a vague mocking smirk.

“You haven’t seen half of it, sweets,” Langley grins, tugging at the band to tie the knot tightly and then leaning on him again. “You have no idea the things I’d do to you,” he says, his voice purposely low and hoarse, “I’d lick you top to bottom, take you in my mouth and swallow you deep enough to make you scream. I’d make you come without even touching your cock, I’d make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life.”

Shannen tries to hold a moan back, but he can’t stop the strangled noise passing through his lips in its stead. “And you’re waiting for what, exactly?” he asks, struggling to keep control over his voice, “Written permission?”

Langley chuckles, kissing Shannen’s nape as he helps him pull his hips up, and starts pushing down his pants. “I don’t want to do any of those things, right now,” he says.

Shannen’s breathing heavily, but he’s relaxing under his hands. “No?”

“No,” Langley shakes his head, “You see, I’ve seen the light. I know where I messed up the last couple times. I wanted to do too many things to you all at once, it’s obvious now.” He rests one of his hands right in the middle of Shannen’s back, pushing him down, while with the other he starts touching him between his buttocks, feeling his opening underneath his thumb, testing the resistance of his muscles as he pushes the tip of his finger past the tightly closed ring. “I kept thinking that would be my only chance, because I was sure, you know?, I was so sure you wouldn’t look at me again a second time, so I had to take my chance and do all the things I could possibly think of. And by thinking that way, I didn’t manage to do one.”

“Right,” Shannen moans, his hips swinging slowly, inviting Langley’s finger to move in, “And what changed? Besides the fact that you needed to tie me up to handle me, obviously.”

“That now I know,” Langley says, smiling against the skin of Shannen’s neck, his thumb finally slipping inside him, “I was a fool believing I could handle you without effort. But I was also a fool believing it’d be so easy for you to forget about me entirely the moment we were done and over.”

“You don’t know…” Shannen breathes in and out deeply, trying to stay focused, “You don’t know how easy it’d be for me to keep ignoring you even after you fuck me.”

“No, love, I do,” Langley grins, forcing him to turn his face with his free hand, “I do, because I’ll make it impossible.” He kisses him again, to take away from him any chance he might think he has to complain about it, or put up any sort of protest. He feels him struggle underneath his hands, he’s trying to break free from his restraint, from the weight of his body pinning him down to the bed, but when Langley pushes his finger deeper inside him and starts moving it in circles a liquid moan escapes his mouth, and Langley knows he won.

Shannen doesn’t try and run away anymore. He parts his legs more, if anything, pushing his ass back to meet with Langley’s finger, asking for more. And Langley grants it to him, because why the hell not? He adds a second finger, pulling himself up on his knees to move into a better position. He can look at him from above, he sees the perfect arch of his back, his black hair falling around his head and on the whiteness of the blanket in disorderly fashion, the way his hips swing, hypnotic, mesmerizing, and he wants to be inside him, he wants him now. 

He’s waited long enough.

He pulls his fingers out of him, and Shannen whines, complaining about the loss. “Come on…” he says, trying to pull back enough to touch him again, “Who’s making the other wait forever, now?”

Langley laughs, genuinely amused, pressing an affectionate kiss on his nape, and then on his cheek. “Sorry for the delay,” he says, “I wanted to enjoy the sight for a while.”

“Why?” Shannen asks, turning his head for another kiss on his lips, “Because you’re scared you won’t have another chance after we’re done?”

“No,” Langley shakes his head, kissing him again, “Just because I like you.”

Shannen doesn’t answer, but Langley sees the light blushing of his cheeks. He knows Shannen’s not properly embarrassed, that the sentence just took him by surprise and that this is the only reason why he didn’t have an answer ready for it yet, but it’s okay, he doesn’t need to push Shannen out of his comfort zone at all costs to know he’s got him hooked, now. He seems to be able to understand him much better at this point. Why this wasn’t a game for him – because he was not playing. And at some point along the way Langley has stopped playing too. It just took him a while to realize.

He thrusts inside him in one long, hard, deep push, that makes Shannen’s body lift from the mattress for a second before falling back upon it. He’s heaving, and he’s shaking, and his arms are probably aching a little, which is why he keeps shifting to try and search for a more comfortable position, but he’s in on this, he’s enjoying it. Langley holds him by his hips and fucks him slowly, because he wants it to last. There’s no rush, he doesn’t need to run anywhere. To make Shannen happy, to satisfy him, this doesn’t have to be a challenge, it just needs to be deep. After all, he had told him right from the start he wasn’t interested in becoming just another name Langley couldn’t remember. And he’s done everything in his power to make sure he could never forget.

*

He wakes up thinking, for sure, Shannen must’ve gotten out during the night, but it isn’t so. He’s lying down next to him, sleeping peacefully. He doesn’t look like much of a dick, when he’s asleep. On the contrary, actually. He looks pretty innocent.

He’s facing Langley and he’s curled up on his side, his hands tucked underneath the pillow. Langley can only see his wrists, and the thin, light red line circling them, the only trace left of what they’ve done last night – besides the fact that they’re sleeping together, of course. 

The tie is hanging loosely down the headboard of the bed. Langley isn’t sure how he’s supposed to wear it ever again.

“You know,” Shannen says all of a sudden, his voice bearing no trace whatsoever of the last few hours of sleep, “It’s rude to stare.”

Langley grins, moving closer to him and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Should I have asked for permission before?”

“You should’ve just gotten up,” Shannen says simply, opening his eyes and finally looking back at him. “Don’t you dare kiss me. I hate morning breath.”

“Ow, come on,” Langley whines, disappointed, “When you’re in an intimate relationship with someone, these things don’t matter.”

“We’re not in an intimate relationship,” Shannen says, pulling back, “We just had sex.”

“And I guess that’s not the same in your book?”

“Not even slightly,” he says, shaking his head.

Langley sighs deeply, letting out a short laughter. This boy’s going to make him crazy. There’s no doubt about it. “Fine, then,” he concedes, “No kissing.”

“Also no telling anybody we’re a thing or whatever,” Shannen goes on, “Because we’re not.”

“No?” Langley smirks, kissing him down his neck.

“No,” Shannen grabs him by his hair and pulls him away, grinning, “And no sex before breakfast.”

“Oh, come on,” Langley grumbles, frowning deeply, “You’re not letting me do anything. That’s so boring.”

Shannen actually chuckles, letting go of his hair. His arm remains hooked around his neck, though, his fingers moving softly up and down his nape. “I’ll tell you what you can do,” he says, with such a voice that if a request for the moon itself for breakfast would come out of that mouth, Langley would probably only ask if he wanted it with milk or coffee, “You can get up and let me go. You can go have a shower, and then you can go have breakfast. After that, what you do is not my concern, but after we’re done with classes you can come find me in my dorm. I believe you told me there’s a few things you’d like to do to me. I think it’s time for you to act on your words,” and then he smirks wickedly, “ _Sweets_.”

Langley has to put in it all his might not to just jump on him again. Trying to conceal how hard it’s going to be to get out of the bed for a variety of reasons he doesn’t feel like sharing with Shannen, he smiles and nods. “Your wish is my command,” he says charmingly, “I’ll see you later.”

Shannen laughs, amused, and slips off the bed. Shamelessly naked, he walks around the room retrieving his clothes, and completely careless of the mildly obsessive way Langley’s eyes follow him around, he gets dressed.

He only stops when he’s at the door. “Ah, I almost forgot,” he says, one hand already on the handle as he turns around, smirking, “Bring your tie.”

He’s lucky he’s very fast and leaving bedrooms in the morning.


End file.
